‘than others, since no man knoweth the things ‘of a man, save the spirit of man, which is in ‘him. For I presume I have satisfied you by ‘ the observations I have just made, even if I ‘ had failed to do it before, that, had I accepted ‘this appointment, I should have made myself ‘ ridiculous, and returned afterwards with much ‘ discomfiture to the state of life, in which I now ‘am: for not only the envy of others, but, what ‘is much more dangerous than envy, the too ‘common ambition, which is entertained, for ‘this rank in the church, generally arms the ‘majority against every one, who is raised to ‘it; and as unnatural children grudge the old ‘age of their parents, so also some of these ‘ persons, when they see the priesthood continue ‘long in the hands of one person, though the, ‘impiety of the action would restrain them ‘from killing him, are eager to depose him, | ‘every one being ambitious to succeed him, and ‘ each expecting the office to fall to himself.
‘ Shall I bring before you another scene in ‘ this warfare, which is full of innumerable dan- ‘gers? Go now, and take a view of the public ‘ festivals, during which it is customary for 9] ‘ the ecclesiastical elections to be made! and “you will see the priest, assailed by as many accusations as there are persons, subject to “ his government. For then all, who have a a share in bestowing this honour, are divided n into many parties; and you may see the nw council of elders unable to come to an agreen ment either among themselves or with the n bishop, who presides over them, concerning n the person, who ought to be preferred, but n standing aloof from each other, while one n chooses this man, and another that; the rea- son of which is, that they do not all of them n ‘ jook to the only criterion, which they ought ‘to regard, the virtue of the soul, but allow ‘this honour to be determined by other consi- ‘ derations; as for instance one man says—‘‘ Let ““ him be admitted, because he is of a noble fa- “« mily |! ’—another—‘“ Because he is possessed ‘* of much wealth, and has no need to be main- ‘* tained out of the revenues of the church! ”— ‘a third—‘“‘ Because he has deserted from the “‘ opposite party!”—,; and some are eager to ‘give the highest honour to their intimate ‘ friend, some to their relation, some to any one, n “~ n n nn na n ¢ 92 who will flatter them more than others; and no one looks to the person, who is fit for it, nor thinks of inquiring into the qualities of the soul. I on the contrary am so far from thinking these reasons worthy of regard, in estimating pretensions to the priesthood, that even though a particular individual should have acquired a truly religious character, a thing of no small consequence for the due discharge of the duties of that office, I could not on that account venture to appoint him immediately, unless with his religion he also possessed much intelligence: for I recollect, that many, who have shut themselves up all their lives, and wasted themselves away with many fastings, obtained, so long as they could live alone, and attend only to their own concerns, the approbation of God, and devoted no small portion of each day to sacred meditation. But, when they came into public, and were required to correct the folly of the multitude, some of them were alto- gether unequal to the task, and others, who could not relinquish their employment, forgot their former exactness, and did the greatest a wn n w “ n Kn “ 6 6 93 mischief to themselves without being of any service whatever to others. Nay. Even if | there were a candidate, who had spent all his life in the lowest rank of the ministry, and had come to extreme old age, I would not through reverence for his years promote even such an one inconsiderately to the highesty order: for what, if after that age he should remain unqualified? And I say this not from any desire to dishonor hoary hairs, or to enact a law for excluding altogether from this high function those, who come from a monas- tic society (for it has often happened, that persons: from that order have been an orna- ment to this dignity), but because I am anxious to establish this maxim, that neither piety by itself, nor age is a sufficient test, to prove its possessor worthy of the priesthood, a fact, scarcely capable of being. ascertained even by the aforesaid considerations. But other pleas have been admitted, still more ab- surd: for some are even taken into the order of the clergy, that they may not range themselves with an opposite party, others on account of their profligacy, lest in resentment for being 94 94 ‘ slighted they should commit some grievous ‘wrong. Can any thing be more improper than ‘ this, when wretches, teeming with unnumbered ‘ crimes, are courted for reasons, for which they ‘ought to be punished, and even advanced ‘ to the priestly dignity for causes, which ought ‘to restrain them from passing over the pave- ‘ment of the church? Need we look further ‘(I pray) for the cause of God’s anger, when ‘ we commit concerns, so holy and so fearful, to * wicked and worthless men, who will be sure ‘to pollute them? For, if some men are en- ‘trusted with an administration, for which ‘they are utterly unfit, and others with a ‘charge beyond their strength, they bring the ‘ church into a state of agitation, like that of ‘the Euripus. I have formerly ridiculed other ‘ rulers for distributing their honours not from ‘any regard to merit, but to wealth, and num- ‘ber of years, and superiority of rank. But, ‘when I learned, that the same incongruity has ‘ appeared in our own proceedings, I no longer ‘ considered the fact so portentous. For what ‘ wonder is it, if secular persons, who are both ‘ enamoured of popular applause, and influenced 95 ‘ by the desire of wealth, commit such errors, ‘ when even those, who profess to be weaned ‘ from these pursuits, act no better than they, ‘ but with a heavenly prize to contend for, still, ‘as if the object of their deliberation were ‘ acres of land, or matters of that nature, receive ‘from the crowd any candidates at random, ‘ and set them over an affair, for which the only ‘ begotten son of God did not disdain both to ‘ quit his own glory, and become man, and take ‘ the form of a servant, and submit to spitting, ‘and buffeting, and death, an ignominious ‘ death in the flesh? Nor yet do they stop even ‘here, but proceed to other measures, yet more ‘ preposterous; for not only do they nominate ‘unworthy persons, but reject those, who are ‘suitable. Thus, as if it were necessary to ‘ impair the safety of the church both ways, or ‘as if the first offence were not sufficient to ‘inflame the anger of God, they have added ‘to it a second, no less dangerous than the ‘ other: for it seems to me not less monstrous ‘to exclude the useful laborer than to intro- ‘ duce the unprofitable, a course, that appears ‘to be adopted, in order, that the flock of 6 n a n n n n a n n n n € 6 96 Christ may not find comfort or rest from any quarter. Are not these practices then worthy of innumerable thunders, of a hell, more fierce than that, with which we are threatened? And yet he, who willeth not the death of a sinner so much, as that he should be converted, and live, tolerates and connives at such enormities: and (how must any one needs wonder at his kindness to us! how must he be astonished at his mercy!) those, who belong to Christ, ruin his flock even more than his adversaries and _ his enemies, while he from the abundance of his compassion still shews mercy, and invites us to repentance. Glory be to thee, O Lord! Glory to thee! How great is the depth of thy love, how marvellous the riches of thy patience! They, who from being vile and unprofitable have through thy name become precious and distinguished, make use of their privileges against the interest of their bene- factor. Nay. They presume to do what none ought to think of, and even profane thy holy services by driving out and removing thy zealous servants, that so the profligate may 97 ‘ overturn every thing at their pleasure in the ‘ profoundest security, and in the plenitude of ~ peace: ‘Then as to the causes, which have led to ‘this monstrous iniquity, if you choose to in- ‘vestigate them, you will find them resemble ‘the former: for they have one common root, ‘ and, as I may say, one parent, Envy, although ‘ certainly they are not of one form, but present ‘ different appearances. For one says—‘‘ Let ** the individual proposed be rejected, because ““ he is young!’—another—‘‘ Because he can- ‘« not flatter!’’—and a third—‘‘ Because he has ‘given umbrage to such an one!”—another ‘ again—‘‘ Lest some one should be offended at “seeing him approved, when the candidate, ‘* whom he himself recommends, is rejected!”— ‘ another—‘‘ Because he is too benevolent and ‘< candid!”—another—‘ Because he is feared ‘¢ by offenders!”—and another for various other ‘such reasons: for they are never in want of ‘excuses. Nay. They find it easy to con- < strue even the abundance of a man’s posses- | “sions into a fault, if they have no other to — ‘adduce: and they have this further allegation H 98 ‘to make, that it is not fit for any one to be ‘advanced to this honour at once, but slowly ‘and gradually: and they can invent as many ‘ other pleas as they choose.
‘Here however I would fain ask—What ‘ then is the course to be pursued by a bishop, ¢ who has so many opposite tempests to contend ¢ with? How shall he stand against so many ¢ waves? How shall he parry all these attacks? ‘ For, if he would form a just estimate of the ‘ proceedings, all these persons should be re- ‘garded, as adversaries and enemies both to ‘himself, and to those, who are chosen: for ‘ they do every thing in their power to thwart ‘his wishes, introducing fresh parties every ‘day, and raising numberless sneers at the ‘ persons, who are elected, till they either get ‘ them expelled, or procure their own friends to ‘be introduced: and in short his case very ‘ closely resembles that of the master of a ship, ‘ who has pirates, sailing with him in the vessel, ‘and every hour forming conspiracies against ‘ both him, and the ship’s crew, and the passen- ‘gers. On the other hand, if he values their ‘ favour beyond his own safety, and is thus in- ¢ n~ n na n a “ n n n“ n a a ow ON ON “ a ns oe n “a 6 t a oY.
duced to admit characters, whom he ought not, he will have God instead of his opponents for an enemy: than which condition what can be more perilous? and his course of action will become more difficult than before, be- cause the whole confederacy will act together, being strengthened by this new alliance: for as, when fierce winds encounter each other from opposite quarters, the sea, which was before quiet, becomes suddenly enraged, and foams, and destroys the mariners, so the calm of the church is agitated by tempests, and overrun with shipwrecks, when pernicious men are introduced into it. Consider there- fore, what ought to be the character of a per- son, who has to meet such an impending storm, and to manage and regulate such obsta- cles to measures of public utility! For he ought to be at once dignified and meek, and reverend and mild, and commanding and affa- ble, and inflexible and courteous, and humble and independent, and zealous and tranquil, if he would struggle against all these difficulties. He must exert his authority with firmness in advancing a proper person, though every one a n“ nw nn a n“ a n ¢ 6 6 ¢ 6 4 ie " should resist him, and in rejecting one, who is unfit, though all recommend him; and he must look to one thing only, the edification of the church, doing nothing from resentment or partiality. Do you now think, that I have declined this office lightly?
‘ Nevertheless I have not yet enumerated all my reasons, but have still more to mention: and be not weary of listening to one, who is your true friend, and anxious to impress your mind upon the subject of your charge! For these hints will not only help you to vindicate my conduct, but ‘are conducive also to the right management of the work: for every one, who enters upon this course of life, ought first to make diligent inquiry into all branches of the ministerial office, before he engages in it: and why should he do so? If for no other reason, at least for this, that he may not feel himself at a loss, when these impediments to his usefulness occur, a perplexity, which cannot befal one, who has taken a clear view of things, before they arise. Shall I there- fore first proceed to the department of directing the widows, or to that of superin- 4 é “ 6 6 a n n oN n n n tending the virgins, or to the difficult task of the judicial administration? For each of these occupations demands a different kind of la- bour, and a caution, even greater than the labour.
‘To begin then with what appears to be the simplest duty, it would seem in the first place, that the care of the widows could occasion no other anxiety to those, who undertake it, but that of expending the money. This however is not the case: for even in this business much discrimination is necessary, whenever any one is to be taken into the number, there being no end to the mischiefs, which result from choosing and admitting them at random; for some widows, who have been so elected, have been convicted of ruining families, dis- solving marriages, and behaving unseemly, often in thefts, in frequenting public houses, and other practices, equally offensive. But for such women to be maintained out of the revenues of the church is a state of things, that must provoke divine punishment, and-the severest reprehension of men; and if ake“ wae wise indisposes many to do good, ye ane wb he eos Be & ee Fe \ des £ ¢ n n otherwise willing. For who would choose to expend the wealth, which he is required to give to Christ, on those, who blaspheme his name? It is therefore expedient, that a close and accurate investigation should take place, not only, that such widows as have been men- tioned, but such as are able to provide for themselves, may be prevented from wasting the provision of those, who cannot: and after this investigation another subject of solicitude, by no means of slight importance, remains, that their sustenance may flow to them freely, as from a fountain, and never fail: for involuntary poverty is an evil, that refuses comfort, > and vents itself in complaints and ingratitude; a n n and great diligence is necessary, to stop the mouths of those, who are under its influence, by taking away from them all occasion of cavil. If therefore there be any one, who is observed to have overcome the desire of riches, he is immediately pronounced by many with- out further inquiry to be qualified for this office, whereas I, who do indeed think this species of magnanimity the first requisite, since without it the priest would injure instead ‘of directing, and prove a wolf rather than a ‘ shepherd, do not yet regard it, as a sufficient n criterion, but judge, that we ought also to ‘inquire, whether he has another qualification ‘ together with this, namely patience, which is ‘ productive of all human blessings, and wafts n“ the soul, as it were, into the haven of peace: ‘for the class of widows through poverty, a“ and age, and sex, are addicted to what I must n needs call, to use a favorable name for it, an “unlimited freedom of speech. They are unsea- ‘sonably clamorous. They bring accusations a without reason, complain of that, which they ‘ ought to accept with thankfulness, and reject “ what they ought to approve; all which their n superintendant must bear with dignity, and “not be vexed by their ill-timed interruptions ‘and unreasonable complaints: for their suffernw ings deserve pity, not insult; and it would ‘ argue the height of cruelty to become accesn sary to their misfortunes, and to add the pain wn of contempt to that of poverty. For this rea- ‘son a wise man, who well understood the cove- ‘tousness and arrogance of our nature, and ‘knew the power of poverty to unman even the ‘ most generous soul, and prompt it to obtrude ‘its wants with indecent pertinacity, being ‘ desirous to obviate the offence, which is usually ‘taken at such demands, and to preserve the ‘ person, whose duty it is to assist the petitioners ‘from being made an enemy by their repeated ‘and provoking intreaties, exhorts him to be ‘mild and easy of access to them, saying.— ‘“‘ Let it not grieve thee to bow down thine ear “to the poor, and give him a friendly answer ‘‘ with meekness!” And then instead of con- ‘sidering the offence, which is sometimes ‘ taken at their importunity, (for why should he n reason with the fallen?) he directs his an discourse to one, who can bear with their weaka ness, and advises him to give them encoua ragement by the mildness of his countenance, a and the meekness of his speech, before he a offers his present: for though he should keep a himself ever so clear of embezzling the a widows’ fund, yet, if he load the widows a themselves with every kind of reproach and a insult, and behave roughly to them, he not only hinders the gift from lightening the denn 6 jection, which their poverty naturally brings n x n n n nn n n n n " n “ n “ n ns a n n wn ~ a n n upon them, but even aggravates their mis- fortunes by his haughtiness: for though they may be stimulated by hunger to an unbecoming and clamorous importunity, they are never- theless really in circumstances of distress, and it is by this they are driven through a dread of want to beg, and from begging to overstep the rules of propriety; and again this forgetfulness of decorum exposes them to insulting treat- ment. This complication of depressing cir- cumstances clouds and weighs down their spirits: and hence it becomes the person, who superintends them, to practise such forbear- ance as may not only preserve him from in- creasing their uneasiness by provocation, but even enable him to remove the greater part of it by consolation: for as those, who are in- sulted, are too sensible of the insult to be gra- tified by pecuniary assistance, so a person, who is accosted with tenderness, and receives con- solation and relief together, is the more grati- fied, and feels the obligation doubled by the manner, in which it is bestowed: and this I say not on my own authority, but in concurrence with the same writer, from whom i ‘ quoted the foregoing advice; for he says— ‘“¢ My son, blemish not thy good deeds, neither ‘use uncomfortable words, when thou givest ‘“any thing! Shall not the dew assuage the ‘* heat? So is a word better than a gift. Lo! ‘Ts not a word better than a gift? But both ‘are with a gracious man.” Neither yet is ‘it sufficient for the superintendant of the ‘widows to be considerate and patient. He ‘must be ceconomical also; or for want of this ‘ virtue the funds of the poor will be inadequate ‘ to their object. Some time since there was a ‘ person, who, being entrusted with this office, ‘ collected a large subscription, which, though ‘ he did not himself consume it, he yet failed to ‘ spend, except in a few instances, upon those, ‘ for whose use it was intended; and thus he ‘allowed the greater part of it to lie, buried, ‘ till at length a season of public danger trans- ‘ ferred the whole into the hands of the enemy. ‘ Considerable discretion therefore is needful in ‘ the disposal of the church-funds, to avoid the ‘ extremes of extravagance and meanness, that ‘ the contributions may be distributed speedily ‘among those, who want them, and new trea- ".
” ¢ nn.
n n n ¢ sures created for the church in the hearts of the contributors.
‘ Next in those, whose province it is to enter- tain strangers, and to visit the sick, what libe- rality, vigilance, and discretion are required! For the expence incurred in these duties can never be less, and must often be greater than in that, which has been mentioned. Whoever has the management of it, must distribute it with caution and prudence, so as to prevail upon the wealthy to part readily and ungrudg- ingly with their property, yet without hurting the feelings of the subscribers in his care to assist the needy. In this office too he will stand in need of still greater patience and zeal, because the sick are a sullen class, diffi- cult to please, and, unless great diligence and care are shewn them in every way, a very slight neglect is enough to give them great offence, ‘ But the task of superintending virgins is a subject of more apprehension than all the rest, inasmuch as they are 2 more precious trea- sure, and a class of greater dignity; for there have been sometimes irregularly introduced a a n x nn a n nw n n ¢ ‘é ‘6 ‘ n n “ a ww ‘ 4 ‘6 n an n into the society of these holy maidens a vast number of females, teeming with many vices: which occasions still greater sorrow; for as it is a worse evil for a free virgin than for her slave to go astray, so also it is not the same offence in a virgin, and in a widow. For instance, it is a matter of slight conse- quence, when the latter trifle, and talk scandal, and flatter, and behave unseemly, and are seen every where, and gad about the market- place. But the virgin has trained herself to higher attamments. She emulates the highest philosophy. She professes to ex- hibit upon Earth the conduct of angels, and in this flesh to follow the steps of those unembodied spirits. It is therefore unfit, that this class of religionists should go abroad often, or without occasion; nor is it becom- ing, that they should be engaged in hasty or frivolous conversation; and as for scandal and flattery, the very name of these vices ought to be unknown among them. Hence it is neces- sary to keep a stricter watch, and to summon further assistance: for the enemy of holiness attacks them with more vehemence, and lays ‘snares against them, that he may be ready to ‘swallow them up, in case any one of them ‘should decline, or fall: and there are always ‘many men also at hand, to inveigle them to ‘ their ruin; to which catalogue of evils must ‘be added the violence of nature: for ‘they have to contend in fact against two ‘ armies, one attacking them from without, the ‘other harassing them from within; whence ‘their superintendant has much cause to fear, ‘but more need of caution, and occasion for ‘ erief, should any unexpected misfortune occur, ‘which is much to be deprecated. For, if a ‘father is rendered sleepless by secret watch- ‘fulness and concern for his daughter, when « his only apprehension is, lest she should pass ‘ the flower of her age without having a family, “or should be disliked, by her husband, what ‘must be the feelings of one, whose concern is ‘ for none of these things, but for others, far more ‘ important? For in this case it is not a man, ‘who is disregarded, but Christ himself; and ‘ barrenness in this case does not merely cause * reproach, but endangers the destruction even of ‘the soul: for it is said,—‘‘ Every tree, which ‘‘bringeth not forth good fruit, is hewn down, ‘and cast into the fire—”’: and if one of the ‘number should displease this husband, Christ, ‘she cannot take a bill of divorcement, and ‘ depart, but suffers everlasting punishment, as ‘an atonement for his wrath. Moreover a n natural father has many helps, which render a the government of his daughter easy to him: a for both the mother, and the nurse, and a numx ber of maids, and the security of the house n assist him in preserving his virgin; for she is a neither permitted to run continually into the a market, nor, when she goes, 1s she liable to be nx seen by any one, that passes, the darkness of “~ evening being as secure a veil as the cover of n the house itself to one, who wishes not to be n seen: besides all which, she is out of the reach n of scandal, being never obliged to come into a the company of men; for no domestic arrangea ments, no quarrel with injurious neighbours, ‘nor any thing else of that kind renders it nen cessary for her to meet them, since her father a is every thing to her, and she has no other n“ concern, but this, to say and do nothing, a which is unsuitable to the decorum of her be- ‘haviour. Butin this guardianship there are € many causes, which render the paternal go- 4 vernment difficult, or rather impossible: for the governor can neither keep his ward at home with him in his house, nor would it be a decent, or even safe for them to live together in a this manner, since, even if they should them- selves escape pollution, and maintain their sanctity unimpaired, they will feel as heavy a ‘ responsibility on account of the souls, whom ‘ they have offended, as if they had been guilty themselves. This then not being possible, it a“ is not easy for him to distinguish the movewn ments of her soul so as to restrain those, which ‘ are irregular, and exercise and improve those, 6 which are right: nor again, can he convea niently inquire into every reason for her quit- ‘ ting the house; for her poverty and the want of ‘a governess will not allow him to be very par- ‘ ticular in inspecting the propriety of her con- ‘duct, inasmuch as, being forced to wait alto- ‘ gether upon herself, she has many pleas for ‘going abroad, if there be any immodesty in ‘ her character, so, that if he would direct her “to stay at home altogether, it becomes neces- ‘ sary to cut off these excuses by supplying her ‘both with a sufficient maintenance, and also ‘ with a female attendant. It is further needful ‘ to exclude her from funerals and nightly solem- ‘nities: for that crafty serpent knows—he well ‘knows how to disseminate his poison even ‘through the medium of good works. Indeed ‘ the virgin ought to be confined within walls, ‘and not to go out of the house from one end ‘of the year to the other, except on those few ‘ occasions, when inevitable and necessary rea- ‘ sons compel her.
‘If it should be thought however, that the ‘ spiritual guardian has no business to meddle ‘ with any of these matters, it must be remem- ‘ bered, that the interests of every individual ‘amongst them as well as their mutual accusa- ‘tions are referred to him; and it is better for ‘him to undertake the whole labour, and so ‘ escape the charges, to which he is exposed on ‘account of the sins of others, than to shrink ‘from the duty, and then tremble at the ac- ‘count, which he will be compelled to give, for ‘ the actions of others. Moreover by attending ‘to these particulars himself he performs his € ¢ ¢ « a a a a a a wn a Mal a nx a a “ a a“ a a n a task with much ease, whereas, if he must convince the understandings of many assis- tants, before it can be undertaken, he does not procure so much relief by abstaining from the work himself, as he incurs trouble and diffi- culty from those, who thwart him, and oppose his decisions.
‘ But it would be impossible for me to enumerate all the difficulties, which attend the management of the virgins. Even at the time of their enrolment they give no slight trouble to their superintendant. The busi- ness of deciding their claims is productive of many perplexities, and much uneasiness, and involves more difficulties than civil judges meet with; for itis both a laborious task to discover what is right, and difficult also to adhere to it, when discovered. Nor are trou- ble and difficulty the whole. There is con- siderable danger also: for some of the weaker members, when they have met with ill treat- ment, and not obtained redress, have in some instances concerning faith made shipwreck; for many persons, when they are injured, are no less offended with those, who refuse to I é assist them, than they are with those, who ‘have wronged them, and will neither take the ¢ ¢ € € ¢ ¢ ‘ é 6 ‘ € ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ multiplicity of their concerns, nor the difficulty of the times, nor the extent of the priestly jurisdiction into their consideration, but are inflexible judges, and admit of no reply, but the removal of the evils complained of; and he, who cannot do this for them, though he should allege numberless excuses, will never escape their censure.
‘ Now too, that I am upon the subject of this office, let me advert to another source of complaints! For, if the pastor does not go every day round all the houses more sys- tematically than the idlers, who frequent the market-place, the offence, which is taken at the neglect, is inexpressible: for not only the sick, but the whole also wish to be visited, not from any feeling of piety, but in general, because they regard it, as an honour, and a distinction; and, if it should ever happen, that on some urgent occasion, concerning the common interest of the church, he visits some of the richer and more powerful persons oftener RIES) ‘than usual, he immediately incurs a suspicion ‘ of flattery, and adulation.
‘ But why do I speak of these guardianships ‘and trusts? Even from the accident of their ‘ accosting particular individuals so heavy aload ‘of complaint is often thrown upon them, ‘that they must needs sink under it, and be ‘ subject to dejection of spirits. Nay. Even ‘their very looks are called in question: for ‘ people scan with much minuteness even their ‘ peculiarities of manner and language, critici- ‘zing both the tone of their voice, and the ‘expression of their countenance, and the ‘measure of their laughter. For says some ‘ person,—‘* He smiled on such an one with a ‘look of kindness, and spoke to him aloud, “ but to me with less civility, and indeed with ‘‘ indifference ”»—; and, if among many, who ‘ are sitting together, he does not, when speak- ‘ing, direct his eyes to each, this is regarded ‘by many, as a slight. Who then, but a per- ‘son of extraordinary energy can be prepared ‘ against so many accusers, either to escape ac- ‘ cusation, or, after being accused, to secure an ‘acquittal? For it is most desirable to have no 12 12 ‘accusers at all. But, if that be impossible, ‘the next object is to refute their charges: ‘and, if this be no easy task, because there ‘will always be some, who take delight in ‘ censuring him even without cause, then in the ‘ third place he must exert himself to resist that ‘dejection of spirits, which their cavils will ‘naturally occasion: for a man, who is accused ‘justly, may bear the accusation without re- ‘ sentment, because, as Conscience is the bit- “terest of all accusers, he, who has already ‘been convicted by the severest judge, may ‘ well submit to the reproaches of milder cen- ‘sors, whereas on the other hand, when a ‘ person, who is not conscious of any offence, ‘is accused without reason, he is naturally pro- ‘ voked to resent the affront, and, unless he has ‘ previously made up his mind to bear with ‘ the follies of the multitude, is overcome with ‘ dejection; for itis impossible, quite impossible ‘for any one to be accused and condemned ‘falsely without being grieved and hurt at ‘ such unreasonable usage.
‘ Why need I advert to the distress, occa- ‘sioned by the necessity of removing any “a n a n~ n n .
n n na 6 6 one from the communion of the church? Indeed I wish this were an evil, which ended with the distress it occasions. But in fact the danger, which accompanies it, is of no trifling magnitude, since, if his punishment should exceed the occasion, there is reason to fear he may fall into the condition, de- scribed by St. Paul, and be swallowed up with overmuch sorrow. Even in this point therefore, the utmost exactness is necessary, lest what is prescribed for his benefit, should only aggravate his destruction; in which case the physician, who opened the wound unskil- fully, must share the wrath, provoked by any sins, into which he may fall after so imperfect acure. What severity of punishment there- fore must priests expect, when they will not only be called to account for offences, of which they have severally been guilty them- selves, but are also brought into extreme peril because of sins, committed by others! for, if we are afraid of the account we must render for our own private transgressions, if we are alarmed, lest we should not be able to obtain deliverance from that fire, what *‘ punishment is to be apprehended by one, who ‘ has to meet the trial on behalf of so many? ‘ And as to the truth of this statement hear ‘the blessed Paul, or rather Christ himself, * speaking in his apostle, where he thus charges ‘us—‘‘ Obey them, that have the rule over “you, and submit yourselves! For they ‘‘ watch for your souls, as they, that must ‘“‘ give account.”—! Is there then little terror ‘in this threat? It cannot be pretended. ‘But the several considerations I have ad- ‘duced, taken together, may convince the ‘most unwilling hearer, that I have not re- ‘sorted to this concealment from contumacy ‘or vanity, but only from fear for my own ‘ safety, and a due regard to the awful great- ‘ness of the undertaking.’
BOOK THE FOURTH.
BOOK THE FOURTH.
Basit, upon hearing this, made a short pause, and then said, ‘ Had you indeed been eager ‘for this honour, your fears would have had ‘some foundation: for no one, who has once ‘ professed himself qualified to discharge the ‘ office, can plead ignorance, as an excuse for ‘ his errors, after he has been entrusted with it: ‘for he has previously deprived himself of that ‘ apology by his own act in offering himself for the ‘ ministry, and entering upon it with eagerness; ‘and after thus coming to it with his own will ‘and consent, he can no longer say—‘‘ I com- “* mitted sucha fault unintentionally” —or—‘‘ I[ ‘* ruined such a person undesignedly.”—: for the ‘ obvious reply is—‘ How then came you, if ‘“* you were conscious of your ignorance, or how, “‘ dared you, if you were not perfectly compe- “ tent to the task, to intrude into it, and thus ‘“‘ engage yourself in an undertaking above your ‘« strength? Who compelled you? Who dragged ‘‘ you by force, when you were striving to ““ escape?” Now this answer can never be made ¢ to you, since even your own ingenuity can 6 not charge you with any such error, it being ‘ manifest to all men, that you have shewn no ‘ solicitude, great or little, for the honour, but ‘your advancement to it has originated with ‘others; and the same argument, which ren- ‘ ders the failings of the persons, just alluded to, ‘inexcusable, furnishes you with abundant ‘ matter of apology.’